A Love Supreme
by jenthetrulysly
Summary: S/D SLASH - The day started like any other, but little did I know that everything was going to change in that half hour. The death of my father and the loss of my nephew Tommy didn't really compare to the news that I was about to hear. To be honest, for the first time in my life, I perfectly understood the meaning of that old phrase 'having your heart ripped out to shreds.'
1. Chapter 1

**A Love Supreme**

By Nickovetch

_AN – I hope you enjoy my slash swan song. This is my final slash story for classic Five-O, I'll be primarily focusing on angst h/c after this. _

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**Governor's Office, Honolulu, November 1979.**

The day started like any other, but little did I know that everything was going to change in that half hour. The death of my father, the loss of my nephew Tommy didn't really compare to the news that I was about to hear. To be honest, for the first time in my life, I perfectly understood the meaning of that old phrase 'having your heart ripped out to shreds.'

Jameson had called us to his office that morning and I snuck a glance at my second-in-command, who sat with a leg crossed over the other, his hands gently clasped in his lap as he looked forward ahead, his features schooled into an impassive expression that betrayed none of his bewilderment. The faint sensual memory of his body arching against mine as we kissed brutally, his hands clawed on my back flashed in my mind's eye and I blinked, alarmed at how quickly I was reacting to the visual imagery. I traced the curve of his jaw down to the front of his shirt to his hands, where I could see the lightest hint of a bruise on his right hand from where I had held on to them earlier last night.

If I had known then, I'd have never let them go.

The criminal element on the Islands had been rather quiet lately, giving Five-O some time to catch up on the bulk of administrative duties which tended to fall to the wayside during the heat of a car chase or an undercover assignment. It also meant that for once the staff on my team kept reasonable working hours. The Governor has seemed unusually cool and aloof in our telephone call that morning and I had put it down to a case of anxiety regarding the upcoming election.

How wrong I was.

The French doors behind us opened and Jameson stepped through them, looking as worn and haggard as I'd ever seen him.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting, there was a minor matter to attend to," he clarified before peeling off his black suit jacket to drape it over the coat rack in the corner of his office. He sat down, cleared his throat and pressed a button in his interoffice intercom. "Hold all calls, Linda."

"Yes, sir." A female voice replied, tinny with the metallic whine of the speaker.

We waited in silence until Jameson spoke again, this time unable to keep the faint disgust out of his voice. They had pictures, he had said, before thrusting a small yellow envelope from his locked desk drawer at us. My eyes widened and my lips pressed into a thin line when I pulled out the contents, which turned out to be several photographs. After taking a perfunctory glance at them, I passed all of them except for one to my partner. Out of the corner of my eye I watched his face flush deep scarlet as his eyes flashed with anger. A long time ago, the explosion would have been terrific to watch, now, there was merely a drawn out exhale of breath before he put the photographs back in the envelope and put them back on the desk. My admiration for him rose several notches.

"Do we know where the photographs came from?" I asked in a calm voice. I looked down at the picture, shocked at the open look of wanton lust crossing my face. It was dark and shadowy but there was no mistaking that it was me under him, nor could there be any doubt as to who the head of sandy curls belonged to.

"There is only one person with the resources and the nerve to bug your bedroom in that manner, Steve," the Governor answered grimly.

_Wo Fat. _The name came as easily and suddenly as my own, my hatred for the Red Chinese man intensifying with each passing second. My jaw was starting to ache from the tightness and my hands curled into fists, crinkling the edge of the photograph.

Over the years our enmity for each other surpassed from a professional rivalry into something baser, it was no longer the thrill of evading capture and the hunt that kept us going at each other, it was the need to tear into each other, the absolute need to dominate. So long as I was around, Wo Fat could never be the main star on the international stage and so long as he was around, the international stage would be always be a dangerous place to be. The Iron Curtain would remain in place until he was out of the picture.

"What happens now?" Williams' voice asserted into the uncomfortable silence, the cherry redness of his face receding. He was looking anywhere in the room but directly at me and I felt a flare of anger.

I could imagine the media circus that was going to descend and the juicy tabloid lines that were to follow. We would be lucky if we were able to salvage anything left of our careers. "I am willing to take all responsibility for this, sir." The words were dragged out of me by sheer force. My days with Five-O were already numbered but I had never imagined that things were going to end this way.

I don't hold any delusions of grandeur about holding this position forever. Given my outspokenness on crime, I've stepped on too many toes over the years to hope for a peaceful retirement. I'm more likely to end up in the bottom of the Pacific Ocean off the coast somewhere or else dead from a bullet that I hadn't been able to dodge. I had hoped that Danny would be able to take over the reins from me when the time came but things have a knack for never working out the way you want them to.

Jameson steepled his hands together before speaking very carefully. He turned his even gaze slowly from Danny to me. "I'm sure you understand the absolute discretion for secrecy about this. It would be a nightmare if this were able to become public knowledge. I don't think it will be necessary to go that far, Steve."

Slowly, against my will, I nodded. I didn't like the way this conversation was going, and I did have an idea what the end result was going to be. I didn't dare tear my eyes away from the governor, I didn't want to face the wall of emotion that would greet me.

It was both a blessing and a curse to be proven right yet again as he continued. "Should you resign from your office, that will create a similar stir. The last thing that the public need right now is to lose confidence in our administration. No matter how abhorrent your judgment has been in this matter, we can only work with what we are given." He looked mildly repulsed, I don't think that even he suspected anything between us.

Since I had welcomed Danny into the State Police Unit, I had been well aware of the rumours that circulated around us. I knew enough not to be overly concerned with them since there were more pressing matters to attend to. The rumours in the HPD locker rooms were luridly filthy and it wasn't until Danny mentioned them to me that I had even considered the possibility. However, there was no turning back following the shooting of that boy – the second one – when I had followed him into the apartment and kissed him to reassure him that he was still alive, that he was not a cold, heartless killer. We made love that very evening, and I realised that I was doomed from the start. I remember telling him, as we lay sated on his bed afterwards, that at some stage we were going to argue, to disagree and that things wouldn't always be this nice and slow and easy. That this wasn't going to last forever.

When we became lovers, we made sure that nothing was to change regarding our behaviour, our appearance, and I was glad that as Second-in-Command his coming and going from my place, the way we often stayed over at each others' places didn't warrant much suspicion. Now, I wasn't so sure.

I forced myself to speak around the lump in my throat. "So what happens now, Sir?"

"Well, Steve." Jameson shifted uncomfortably, and I could tell that this was uncomfortable for him. "We can hardly let things stand as they are now. To allow the both of you to continue with this, these _relations, _would be a terrible lapse in judgment."

"What does Wo Fat want?" I waited, hearing my heart beat like a drum in my ears, which strained to hear each exhale of breath, waiting to hear what will happen. Jameson flashed me a look of pure contempt and I didn't have to look to see that Danny was stifling his laughter. I could _feel _it.

"I will have the incriminating photographs burned but they retain the negatives. They are asking for your removal as Head of Five-O. It suffices to say what they will do if we do not comply with these demands. They seem to think that I will remove you as Head of Five-O regarding this matter. Regardless of what my personal feelings are, you are without a doubt one of the finest law enforcement officials I have had the pleasure of knowing. I am not about to lose a good cop just because of his unnatural proclivities."

"I will resign." Danny stated in a small voice. The defeat in his tone made me turn towards him, and our eyes met briefly before he intentionally turned them away. To anyone looking, the movement was casual, but having known this man for almost a decade, the sadness and indignant anger was there. I longed to reach out and place a comforting hand on his shoulder, Jameson's opinion be damned.

Before I could do anything, the governor continued. "I am not about to lose you either, Danny. You will not resign but promoted, effective immediately. HPD needs good detectives on the task force, a position that I am sure you will fulfil with much aplomb."

He nodded, his shoulders slumping. I felt my mouth go dry. Danny wasn't being promoted - he was being stowed away. My partner had given 10 years of his life, had sacrificed more than what any reasonable person should, and now he was being sent back to HPD? I had entertained notions of him being my ultimate successor but I didn't want to think of the day where I wouldn't be there, wouldn't be able to watch is back and make sure that he came home in one piece.

Still, it wasn't that bad. We may have been caught but we still had each other. Jameson hadn't said anything about our off duty actions. It was enough that we were denied any semblance of a warm home life. We took comfort where we could and there was no way we could be damned for that.

However, I spoke too soon. "Still, if these photographs were to surface, the detriment to your reputation would be disastrous. You cannot hope to hold sway over the criminal element of these islands with this hanging over your head. No one will take a homosexual man seriously. So we will go along with the second option."

"The second option?" I repeated faintly. Dread churned in my stomach, filling it with lead.

The governor nodded. "Neither of you are to have any contact with each other. Once Danny is reassigned to HPD, contact is inevitable. You are both neither to have any off duty encounters beyond what is strictly professional – we do not want to give the Red Chinese any more than they already have. I assume that you will have Duke moved up to Second-in-Command and it will be time for you to pick a new member of your team. We have taken the liberty of short listing a few candidates for you." He paused to pull out a pile of manila folders before handing them back to me. Great, the governor was now exerting influence over Five-O in that niggling way of his. I guess the promises of complete autonomy over staff all those years ago mean nothing now. If it were up to me, Danny would never be re-assigned in this manner.

I could barely nod, not hearing a thing that was said. Out of the corner of my eye I could hear Danny move to stand up, so I hastily thanked the governor for the meeting, picked up the stack of files and walked woodenly out of the office.

We walked down the elegant hallway, ignoring the lovely warm sunshine streaming through the open windows in frigid silence. The fresh breeze, softly scented with plumeria and the brightness outside felt nothing more that cold air should have been comforting, but it wasn't. No matter how hard I tried, all I could concentrate on was the feel if Danny's shoulders lightly brushing against mine. I held myself tensely, as did he. When we reached the bottom of the stairs we turned and tried to look at each other. I found that I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. The sunlight streamed directly onto him, making the blue of his eyes the same colour as the Pacific Ocean. His hair was the colour of clean sand, shining softly in the morning light. I tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace.

Looking back, there were so many things that I should have said. The beauty of retrospect is that it leaves you feeling like an inarticulate idiot at what you should have done. There were a million things I should have told him. I should have told him that he was the most meaningful person to me. That it was wrong that things had to happen this way. That I didn't want to let him go. Instead, what I said was, "I guess you'll be going back to HPD Headquarters now."

He let his gaze drift to the bright light outside, obviously gathering his thoughts. When he turned his attention back to me his eyes were glinting with anger. "Steve, we can't just-"

"We can," I cut across. "And we will." Before he could say another word, I took those files and hurried over to the Mercury, where I dumped them unceremoniously onto the passenger seat. The tires squealed as I peeled out of the car park and onto the freeway.

The suffocating ache in my chest finally subsided when I looked in the rear view mirror and couldn't see him anymore.

_**To be continued...**_

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_If you loved it, hated it, please let me know in a review - feedback is always appreciated c:_


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Okay, I've decided to switch back to my old penname of jenthetrulysly - I liked the other one but most people know me as this, so this I shall stay c: _

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**Five-O Offices, Honolulu, January 1980.**

Months passed, and things settled back into a semblance of normal, or as normal as they'd ever be. The press greedily ate up the claptrap Williams gave them about wanting a fresh start. As I was aware the rumour mill flourished more than ever, although I gave no credence to it. Each time we happened to run into each other when Five-O collaborated with HPD, we exchanged nothing but pleasantries. It nearly drove me mad. The first time we bumped into each other I had the distinct impression that we were under the close scrutiny of the other HPD officers and we acted with cool detachment towards each other. Anyone looking at us wouldn't have been able to peg that we were nothing more that acquaintances, let alone lovers. Each time our shoulders bumped, our fingers touched a jolt of electric desire sparked through me. I don't know what was more frustrating, wanting him or being so close to him and being unable to touch him the way I wanted to. My temper was not the best and at times I felt sorry for the other members of Five-O, especially Duke. The Hawaiian had no idea what had happened between us, but he tried his best to reconcile. I suspect he might think a few things but he could mind his own damned business. I nearly screamed at his in frustration at the way he would regale me about stories of himself and Danny, when they caught up for beer, how Danny now was apparently concentrating on furthering his career at HPD and had passed on the title of Ladies Man to someone else.

I snorted into my coffee after Duke told me that, but quickly hid it as a cough. Anyone paying close attention would have seen that Danny was primed to become the top law enforcement official on the islands. This stint with HPD was nothing more than biding time, a ruse devised by Jameson to try and smooth things over with the Red Chinese. I was willing to bet that as soon as I was gone Jameson, assuming he was still in office, would appoint Danny as Head of Five-O.

What I couldn't ignore was the news, or lack of news, about Danny's love life. My interest was strictly professional, you see. Having been a ladies' man as long as I had known him, even when we were together, occasionally he would take girls out to keep up the cover, doing his damned best to convince everyone around him that he was nothing but a red blooded American. I ignored it because I convinced myself that I had his heart, and that was all that mattered. The news that there was no girlfriend or girlfriends to warm his bed only made the whole thing more depressing. Against my better judgment, I found myself watching over him, if not directly, then through the stories that other people told me about him. I didn't ask them how he was, but I didn't exactly stop them when they started to tell me.

I had to be careful, so that my interest did not cross into obsession.

Since then, each of the two times I saw him, he looked distinctly unhappy. The creases on his forehead had deepened and when we stood close enough to each other I could see the first few strands of silver glinting among the sandy curls. His eyes were forlorn and he was getting thinner and thinner. I wanted to take him out to dinner and feed him until the curve of his chin softened, the sharp jut of his chin a little smoother. I bet if I were to place a palm against the warm skin of his hip, I could feel the bone.

What I wanted to do, and what I could do, were two different things.

I gave into Jameson's incessant pressure that I should hire a female detective. Lori Wilson was capable and adept but she was female, and in some ways that was a disadvantage. I couldn't send her undercover the way I might have sent Duke, or Chin, or _him_. I also had reservations about her; she had a wide careless streak that more often than not almost cost us the entire operation. I rarely sent her undercover unless I had to.

Then there was Jim Carew, a brash cop who fought tooth and nail with me about everything and anything. It was infuriating, my blood boiled whenever I thought of that crass man. He questioned every decision I made and did things his way. Sometimes I wondered why I kept him around instead of booting his sorry ass back to wherever he came from. I think it was New York. After many nights of quiet reflection, I realised that the thing that kept me from firing him was the fact that he was loud, and obnoxious enough that I didn't have to think, I could just focus on the anger and forget things for a while.

Against my better judgment and to Duke's relief, I made him my Second-in-Command.

He caught me by surprise one day when I came into the office and literally stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the familiar head of sandy curls in front of me. From the door the light played with the fabric of his suit, which stretched across broad shoulders and down a tapered waist to the curve of his ass. He was still too thin and I was overwhelmed with the urge to force feed him something rich. I felt the all too familiar ache start again, that sense of _hunger _that I knew was never going to get fulfilled. I stepped forward coming to a stop in front of the two men. My patience was sorely tested when I saw those clear blue eyes glaring defiantly, bright with emotion.

I had a feeling I had just diffused a tense situation between my Second-in-Command and him. Clearing my throat, I shot each of them a withering look. "Can someone please tell me why you two are on the verge of physically attacking each other?"

Danny turned to look at me and I stifled a gasp. He had a ring of blue around his right eye, which was swollen and slightly puffy. It looked painful and it was sheer willpower that I didn't reach out to stroke the tender skin. The shock must have shown on my face because Danny turned his head away.

"This arrogant bastard won't see things my way." Kimo replied angrily, almost petulantly. It was like he expected me to play referee between them in this melee.

I absolutely had no intention to. Moving past them, I made my way to the office, picking up the steaming mug of coffee Iolani had thoughtfully poured for me. "If you please gentlemen, do whatever you have to do to sort out your differences and move on. We have to appear nothing less than a unit in our business."

It wasn't until I was sitting behind my desk with half a mug of coffee in me when I realised what I had done. Cursing myself for the transparency, I had just picked up the file on the Vasquez case before Danny came barrelling into my office radiating anger and frustration. To see what I wore like a second skin was refreshing, and a small part of me felt happy to see that he was just as tense and miserable as I was.

However, it was short lived. I wasn't prepared for this. "Steve," he said and for a moment I truly believed that things were alright again, that he was still my Second-in-Command and that we were discussing a case file, just like old times as he sat down.

"What?" I snapped.

"That man, he's going to get you killed," he answered flatly.

"I get by, just as I have to. As do you," I pointedly looked at his left eye, and he turned his face to the side, trying to hide as much of it as possible.

We sat is a semi-comfortable silence for a while, before curiosity got the better of me and I asked. "What happened to your eye?"

"A suspect I was arresting decided to leave me with a present." The way his voice went higher at the end told me it was a lie, but I didn't press into it. It was unprofessional, and I had no reason to enquire. Well I did, but none of them were professional, strictly speaking.

The silence stretched a little longer before I gave in. "Danno." The word came as naturally as breathing.

The use of that name, the special name that I had given him all those years ago startled him and he looked up. For the first time in months, we really looked at each other. That was when I saw how hard the past few months had been.

We held each other's gazes before I found my voice. "Is there, is there anyone to watch your back?"

He regarded me tersely for a moment or two before replying in a voice kept calm with effort. "Since when have I needed someone to do that?"

I nodded in dismissal. He took the non-verbal cue and was gone in a flash.

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	3. Chapter 3

I awoke to blue eyes clouded from drugs watching me, and I for a second I was caught off guard at how they stared blankly at me. Slowly, I watched him blink. I took the opportunity to bend my arms over my head, easing the kinks in my muscles and the stiffness in my back. I had fallen asleep in the chair by his bed, somehow soothed by the mechanical beeping of the machines. As I did, a thin cotton blanket dropped to the floor.

"How long have you been watching me?" I asked, bending down to pick up the material.

"How long have you been here?" he shot back, his voice rough with sleep or it could have been because he had screamed his throat raw. I really didn't want to know.

I indulged in a strained smile as I folded the blanket, smoothing the creases out of the cotton. "Since they brought you in," I answered evasively.

An uncomfortable silence settled between us as he sank a little further back into the bed. From here he looked tiny in the bed, which was ridiculous because he was fully capable of pinning me down with his weight and-

"I assume you're here because Doc told you about it," he mumbled, more into the pillow then at me. In the bright light of day it was clear that they did a really thorough job in roughing him up. Black, green and blue mottled his tanned skin and the right hand side of his face was covered in a large white dressing. The skin around it was swollen and inflamed. The nurses also hadn't gotten around to getting rid of the blood and dirt ingrained in his hair.

Almost as if he sensed my mental assessment, he moved to draw the white sheets a little closer around himself, as if trying to hide as much as he could from me. This simple action told he was more shaken about the whole thing then he was letting on.

Instinctively, without thinking, I reached a hand out to lay it gently on his, and he flinched, drawing his hand away from me. It was amazing how such a simple rejection hurt as much as it did, it hurt more than any gunshot ever could.

I was expecting him to try and deny what happened. To try and convince me that the medicine was wrong. I was shocked when he started to talk in a flat, emotionless voice. "I was outside my apartment when someone knocked me unconscious. When I woke up I was tied to a bed flat on my back, so I could have the pleasure of seeing them… the people who did it to me. They took turns… until I passed out. The next thing I know I wake up here."

I had the distinct feeling he was trying to prove to me that he was fine, and would be up on his feet again in a few days. I remembered the time when Ben told me how he had been frightened out of his skin by the sound of a car backfiring, and I cautioned myself not to believe him. Whatever he was, Danny Williams could be a consummate liar when he wanted to. Still, we were off to a good start, Danny had seen his attackers.

"Who were they?" I asked.

He shot me a look loaded with deep cynicism that wasn't there three months ago. "What difference does it make?" he replied sullenly. "The deed's done, and I want to put it behind me."

I was floored at his attitude. At my silence he insisted. "Please, Steve. Just let it be."

It was worse than a punch to the gut. The wind knocked out of my lungs as I stared at him, shocked at his attitude. He had a very real chance to make the people who did this pay and he wasn't jumping at the opportunity. I found his hypocrisy horribly unsettling. If this were anyone else he'd be badgering them to go down the path of law enforcement.

"You have to bring them to justice, Danno."

He went silent for a while after I accidentally used my nickname for him, after I let it slip. Clearly this was affecting me more than I had suspected. But then again I had never been very rational when he was around.

"I do not wish to. I will not be filing a report."

"Doc will file an assault report with HPD-"

"No!" The word burst from him like a gunshot. For a moment even he looked surprised at the vehemence with which he had said it. That told me more than

he could have imagined. It also made my blood run cold.

The fact that he didn't want to have the report written up meant that whatever this was it had to do with HPD, or his forced transfer to HPD. It seemed like there might be something larger, more sinister at work here. Slowly, I recalled the last few times I had seen him. He had lost weight over these three months, and each time we passed I could smell the acrid tang of tobacco on his clothes, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced. Each time I saw him, he looked distinctively worse for wear.

I could also have been way off base here. Most victims of criminal assault don't want what happened to them to become public knowledge. Danny prided himself in being self-sufficient, independent and tough. It took him months to come to terms with his attraction for me in the early days and even longer for me to convince him that being attracted to a person of the same sex didn't automatically make him a sissy, a nancyboy or any of the other horrid things they called people like us. I know he tries to act like it doesn't matter what the world thought of him but secretly deep down he does, even if it was just a little. It was part of his relentless strive to be accepted by society and why he was so eager for my praise in the beginning. To be seen as weak and vulnerable would have irked him greatly. That I could understand, in spades.

"Please don't make me," he whispered, only loud enough for me to hear. "I don't want to make things any worse than they are."

The desolation in his voice cut me to shreds. It was painfully obvious that he really needed to talk to someone about it, but was having difficulty in overcoming whatever psychological barriers that was causing him to recede behind a mental wall.

Unable to resist the impulse further, I gently reached out and laid my hand gently on top of his own. He didn't flinch or fight it. His hand was cool through the fabric of his blanket and he turned his head away from me to take a few shallow breaths. He scrunched his eyes shut before a sob tore out of his throat. The shallow breaths became deep sobs and soon his face was streaked with tears.

"Make you what, Danno?" I asked softly.

"Don't make me do this. Don't make me..." he shuddered, and I drew the blankets a little closer around him. Clearly distressed, I decided now was not the time for any more revelations. He had already caved long before we had started.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**HPD Headquarters, Honolulu, March 1980 **

Chief Dann strolled into his office, leaving the door open as a tacit invitation for me to come in. An intimidating man of 6'1'' with grey-flaked hair and cold, calculating eyes, the Chief of Detectives was someone with as much of a vested interest in law enforcement as I did. Our relationship had been strained at best, but there had been hostility ever since I recruited Danny Williams for a slot in Five-O. I didn't know how much attention he gave to rumours but the black glare he aimed at me right now suggested that he regarded them as truth.

"Sit down, McGarrett. What do you want?" he snapped, grabbing a half empty pack of cigarettes before shaking one out and lighting up. He blew out a puff of smoke before regarding me critically.

"I'm here to talk about Danny Williams," I stated flatly, getting right down to business. If I was going to be damned for showing concern for him, I might as well make the most of it. "He was hospitalised recently and assaulted. I'm heading the investigation into the occurrence."

Swivelling in his chair, Chief Dann cleared his throat and took the cigarette out of his mouth. I abhor such unnecessary habits, but I put up with them when the needs must. "Alright, what do you want to know," he sighed finally. "I don't have all day to cater to your whims. Spit it out and get the hell out of here."

So I did. I asked him about Danny's last cases before he had ended up in that alley. Before he was hospitalised, Danny had been working on a case involving the kidnapping of the son of Robert Weatherly, son of the Island's most pre-eminent nuclear physicist, Norman Weatherly, as well as the shooting murders of a young couple up at North Shore. Since his hospitalisation the cases had been re-assigned to another Detective, Walter Sanders. I made a note of the name and to pay him a visit later to inquire into the status of the cases. I would be more surprised if what happened to Danny wasn't related to either or both of the cases.

It was all very routine until I got to the question that I had been burning to ask. "Can you think of anyone who might have harboured antagonism against Detective Lieutenant Williams?"

Chief Dann regarded me for a few moments before he answered carefully. "Hating someone and acting on that hatred are two very different things." The weight of his gaze became meaningful.

"Still, can you think of anyone who might have had cause to personally antagonize Detective-"

"Now wait a minute," his tone became angry and defensive. I'd definitely ruffled his feathers up a bit. "My detectives-"

"I am not insinuating anything," I cut across. "But I want to get down to the facts and find those responsible for the attack on Dan Williams. As you know hatred is powerful compulsion. Now, do you know of anyone who might have antagonised him?"

Dann sighed. "Let's just say that when Danny came under my wing the boys weren't exactly thrilled about it." He eyed me warily before continuing. "They gave him a bit of grief" - something must have registered on my face for he added quickly – "nothing serious though. Just a few jokes, nothing Danny couldn't handle."

"Who was responsible?" I demanded icily.

"Keanu Lowes, Benjamin Henley and Harry Keoku."

I noted the names down in my black leather bound book. "Is there anything else I should know?"

He shook his head and said in a dry, all knowing voice. "No, but if I do hear anything, I will let you know."

I nodded my head in thanks before moving away from the desk. He caught my hand in his before he added in a more serious, sombre tone. "I hope you find who did this to him," he added acidly. "And make him pay for it."

I caught his gaze. We shared a meaningful look before he let go and I headed out the door. It seemed that Danny had managed to worm his way into yet another person's worries without even trying.

As I climbed into my car and started the engine, I decided to ask Duke to hang around the HPD lockers and see if he could find out anything else, any tidbit of information that could help us. Knowing him as I did, he was probably already down there, milling in the locker room trying to sniff out the scent of any trail that might give us a lead.

The traffic was slow on Beretania today, and the Mercury rolled forward at a speed only marginally faster than that of a snail's pace. It gave me time to think, and the process was frustrating, rather than calming. Normally I enjoyed quiet reflection, but the growing sense of unease settled over me like a lead blanket, and I found myself flicking my gaze at the rear view mirror, checking every few moments for a tail.

I scanned the sidewalks for any suspicious activity. A woman pushed a pram down the street, her flowery skirt swaying gently in the breeze, the sun hitting the smooth tan skin of her bare leg. A man stood on the corner, smoking a cigarette. A police officer patrolled the street, his police baton sticking out like a sore thumb on his person.

I wondered if Danny had been carrying his gun when the attack happened. There had been no gun on his person when he was admitted to hospital – I personally checked his personal belongings. Whoever had done this to him took careful steps to make it look like a mugging. Forensics had reported that there were fingerprints all over the wallet and they were being run across every database available – HPD, mainland PDs, FBI and even Interpol – and that his money clip had disappeared.

The fact that this had been a premeditated attack made my blood run cold. Whoever had done this to him must have had close knowledge about his habits, his routines. Danny was a creature of habit. In the five years we were together his daily routine was amazingly simple – it wouldn't have taken much to track his actions. He did his laundry on Thursday, his day off. He bought his groceries from the shops around the corner of his apartment building every Saturday. He stayed at my place every second day.

But we made love almost every night. It was like we were mad for each other.

He must have known his attackers, that was the only way they would have been able to get an upper hand on him. I know better than anyone how strong Danny is, and how he can fight like a wildcat when cornered in a dangerous situation. He would have been wary at the first sight of a crowd of strange men outside his apartment. He had mentioned having seen the people who did it.

I glanced at my watch. It was almost 5pm. Not that crime ran on a time ticker or anything, but by the time I got to the office it was going to be tomorrow morning. Instead, I took the turn off onto the street that would take me to Danny's apartment building. Forensics wouldn't have been through it yet – I had given my word to Danny that I wouldn't be conducting an official investigation into what happened but what I did in my own private time was my own goddamned business.

There were no spaces in front of his building, so I parked a block away and strolled through the mild balmy evening and climbed the steps to his building. The streets were filled with men coming home from work, to a warm home and a waiting family. I thought of Danny, and the cold loneliness of his apartment and the lack of comfort. Jameson had effectively curtailed his love life since that day in November last year. Knowing Danny, he wouldn't want to do anything to risk my career any further, not that it would matter because I was pretty damned already. Chief Dann was already aware that I was conducting an investigation of sorts and the walls of HPD could be remarkably thin when they wanted to. I had tipped my hand well before this had started.

When it came to Danny, common sense simply disappeared.

To know him was to love him. Using the key he had given me seven years ago after the death of Jane Michaels, I let myself into his apartment. Locking the door firmly behind me, I pulled out my pistol and flicked the safety off before turning the light on. After a quick scan of the apartment which showed no sign of anyone being there except for me, I began my thorough examination.

I would be a fool not to admit that coming to this place was disturbingly soothing, to the point that I was mildly alarmed at how quickly I felt relieved at being back here again. The place was the same as it ever was, except for a photograph on the coffee table in a golden frame. I picked it up for a closer look and was shocked to find a picture of us from the Law Enforcement Convention at Los Angeles last year. Together. My hand was on his shoulder and he was grinning in that way of his, the one which sent flutters through my stomach. An all too familiar pain stabbed at my heart when I caught the happiness shining out of his eyes, of my own happiness and pleasure evident on my face as I stood close to him.

I wanted to take the picture and keep it seeing as I had none of us together but I crushed the impulse. Forcing my fingers to loosen on the cool metal of the frame, I gently laid it back down on the coffee table before I began a thorough examination of the apartment. A closer look at the door revealed a dent in the wood to the right of the doorknob and small minute scratches on the brass of the knob, the same type that lock-picking devices might leave behind on those with buttery fingers. Someone had picked their way into this apartment before I had arrived here.

On alert, I examined everything else with a critical eye. There was nothing strange in the living room or kitchen, but I was overwhelmed when I opened the medicine cabinet in his bathroom and was faced with three rows of those little containers for medication. I picked up the one that looked most empty and rattled it. There were only three pills left inside. I peered at the label.

_D. Williams. Naproxen Sodium 500mg 28 tablets 1 every six hours as directed for pain relief. _

He had been hurt recently, but how? I gnashed my teeth at how little I knew about it. I counted backwards; he must have been hurt at least 5 days ago, assuming he took 4 a day. I wondered what happened. As far as I know this stuff was only given to him for pain from gunshot wounds. He hadn't been shot recently, but whatever it was it was equally as bad for him.

Placing the bottle back into its spot, I reached for the fullest one and poured the little pills out into the palm of my hand. They were little round white pills with scores in the middle and I counted 23 of them. Peering at the label, I was floored at what they were.

_D. Williams. Nitrazepam 5mg 60 tablets 1 half an hour before bed as directed for insomnia. Do not take with alcohol._

Danny was experiencing sleeping difficulties. The lack of sleep, restful sleep at that, might account for his perpetual tiredness. One simply had to look at him to see the sombre light in his eyes, the bright vitality of their depths dimmed to a distant memory. Something was upsetting him, and one didn't have to think much to deduce what that thing exactly was. Unconsciously, I found myself standing at the doorway to his bedroom, staring at his well-made bed.

It was a special kind of pain to have the object of your desire thrust in front of you day in, day out, to be so close and yet so unattainable. Danny was a sensualist - he loved the nexus two people share during sex, the rush of adrenaline and the deep level of trust that it required. For someone who had spent the better part of his youth trying to connect to some sense of belonging, sex was all of those things – love, belonging, physical closeness and intimacy, all rolled into one.

Despite that, a small grin split across my face. What we had went deeper than a conventional marriage. Five years was a lot longer than what some marriages lasted these days. Even though we didn't wear gold bands around our ring fingers what we had was as close to a marriage as anything ever got. He was the most meaningful person in my life, and I his. It wasn't all about the sex and the force of our attraction to each other. There was understanding, and plenty of good memories. Lazy Sunday afternoons where we'd do the crossword together or when I'd laugh at his terrible attempts to make something edible. Nights spent out on the lanai in comfortable silence as I sipped my drink, and he sipped his beer. The memories caused a good type of ache to spring up inside me, not unlike the pleasant soreness after a night of lovemaking. When I blinked, the ache turned into an overwhelming sense of despair so strong that I had to sit down on the edge of the bed and put my head between my legs, pulling several large breaths into my lungs as I tried to tamper down the forceful wave of grief over what was, what had been.

Fumbling under the sheets, I found a tiger kukui nut in the shape of a bead, the sort that you see in those traditional Hawaiian bracelets the more traditional Hawaiians wore. I pulled out my handkerchief before I picked the bead up to examine it more closely. It was a smooth bead, polished to a light shine. Extracting a small plastic bag from my pocket, I put the bead into it and stuffed my handkerchief back into my pocket before I stood up and went to exit the apartment, keen on getting Charlie to run a lab on the bead and see if we could pull any fingerprint off of it.


	4. Chapter 4

**HPD Forensics Lab, Honolulu, March 1980**

As I pulled the Mercury into the parking spot I made a promise to myself that I was going to treat Charlie to a nice dinner for the quick job she did on the bead. I had only contacted her yesterday evening about the bead and she had personally run the tests to have them ready by daybreak today. She had the same drive and dedication to the job as Che Fong, another contemporary now long gone. The Forensic Scientist had opted to return to Hong Kong on retirement, where I understood he lived in Kowloon with his wife overlooking the harbour.

I climbed the steps down to the lab with urgency and sidled down the Forensics corridor to Charlie's private lab. The Forensic specialist was bent over her workbench, madly scribbling into a paper pad beside her as she peered down a microscope, clearly fascinated by what she saw. She had no idea I was there, so I cleared my throat. Like a professional, she didn't even flinch before she turned around to see me leaning against her doorway, peering expectantly.

"I was wondering when you'd get here, Mr McGarrett," she said, moving to peel off her glasses and push an errant strand of black hair behind her ear. "I have the results to the test you asked for."

I watched as she turned around and headed to her desk, which more closely resembled the scene of a disaster than a forensic scientist's desk. Papers and files sat open and strewn everywhere. She pulled open the cabinet and extracted the manila folder and handed it to me.

"Am I going to like what I see?" I asked, unnerved at how badly my hands were shaking. I had read plenty of gruesome, bone chilling reports, some forever burned into my memory for their sheer depravity. Yet, the prospect of opening this file made me feel restless. It was extremely unsettling.

"The kukui nut," Charlie began to recite in a voice just shy of a monotone. "This one was a tiger kukui nut from Maui, the real deal, not just the standard fare offered to the tourists who frequent these islands. This one was of a type commonly used for ceremonial necklaces and bracelets."

I stopped listening to her after I scanned the page of her report to find that she had lifted two sets of fingerprints off the small bead. One of them had belonged to Danny. My blood ran cold when I discovered to whom the second fingerprint belonged to.

It had belonged to Keanu Lowes, one of the other detectives at HPD. The named sounded familiar. Closing the file and tucking it under the crook of my arm, I pulled out my little black book. Without a doubt, the name of Lowes, written in my own handwriting, greeted me.

I pressed my lips into a thin line. I looked up to find Charlie staring at me, her eyes widening in alarm at the tension that must have shown on my body.

"I was also able to isolate two clean fingerprints from the kukui nut. One belonged to Detective Lieutenant Williams and the other belonged to Detective Keanu Lowes," she added, her gaze softening.

"Thank you," I said, the sound of my voice oddly calm even to my own ears. I took a deep steadying breath before giving her a smile that didn't reach my eyes, which I didn't feel. "Keep this on the side for me?"

"Sure thing, sir." Charlie replied, moving to stand behind her work counter. I nodded before taking a step back, then headed out the door.

My fingers itched with the power they now held. I had enough information to bring Lowes to justice. Finally, there was really something that I could do for Danny, it was like getting an erection again after months of impotence. I could finally bring the person who did this to justice. The evidence was more than just circumstantial. The finding of the kukui nut in Danny's bed with both Danny's and Lowes' fingerprints on them placed the two men together, in Danny's apartment on the one occasion.

But before I could do anything, I needed to get Danny's permission to open up an official investigation. The victim had to be willing to step forward for the cogs to turn in the due process of law.

**Queen's Hospital, Honolulu, March 1980**

To give myself some time to think, I had stopped along the way to see Danny to buy the evening edition of the newspaper and two containers of saimins at the late night Chinese takeout. To my shock, I was famished – I had neglected to eat anything all day. The aroma of good food made my mouth water.

The past 4 months had been hard for us and I wasn't sure how Danny had changed psychologically. I knew that there was a bitter cynicism that had never been there before, but I was counting on the one true fact that Danny always did the right thing and would continue to do the right thing, no matter what the cost. It was that degree of selflessness that had captivated me from the get-go, the set of determination to do whatever it took to get the job done. I also knew that he had a set of moral principles that mirrored mine which were firmly grounded in that very same selflessness.

Yet, I dreaded seeing him. For the first time, I dreaded spending time with him and talking about this. I didn't want to talk about this, I wasn't even the person who should be talking about something this delicate with him, yet the idea of letting the shrinks have a crack at him was indelibly wrong. I couldn't do that to him.

No, personal reservations aside, I had to do this.

The sense of dread in my stomach only grew stronger the higher the elevator rose in the hospital building, to the point that I hesitated before stepping out of the elevator. I stopped by the nurses' station to flash my badge to the nurse there. I gave her my best official business tone of voice. "I'm here to see Detective Lieutenant Danny Williams."

The pretty Hawaiian nurse eyed the paper bag and the newspaper tucked under my arm. Despite the overwhelming stench of bleach that permeated the corridor, the hot aroma of spices was unmistakeable. She raised an eyebrow as she pointedly looked at the offending items. "Visiting hours are over, Mr McGarrett," she replied in a no-nonsense tone of her own. "I suggest you come back tomorrow."

"I have urgent police business to discuss with him that cannot wait," I replied, attempting to glare her down. "I must discuss it with him immediately. Contact Dr Bergman, I am sure that he will allow me to see his patient."

She fixed me with a glare of her own as she picked up the phone and dialled a number. After a few moments she spoke into the phone, "Dr Bergman? Nurse Kohona from Level 3 Nurses' Station. I have a Mr McGarrett here to see Detective Lieutenant Williams." There was a pause as she listened to Bergman's instructions before nodding. "I understand, sir. I will let him through. Thank you." Kohona hung up the phone before she directed her attention to me. "You can see yourself in, Mr McGarrett," she stated frostily before looking down at the reports in front of her again.

I thanked her politely before heading down the corridor. Swallowing the lump that had formed around my throat, I entered the hospital room in which I had spent more time over the past few days then my own apartment. Despite my unease, the sight of the familiar mop of sandy curls reassured me, and for a fraction of the second I seriously believed that everything was alright again. That I was just coming to visit him after work after he had been injured and that in a few days I was going to take him home with me to my apartment.

Shaking my head to clear those thoughts, I stood by the door for a few moments, drinking in the sight of him before moving closer to his bed. Two days bed rest had done remarkable things for him. He looked much better, with the puffiness of the black eye slowly fading, the stark black fading into oblivion.

I put down the bag of takeout and the newspaper before settling down into the rickety uncomfortable chair. His clear blue eyes followed me all the way, and remained fixed on me as I gave him a worn smile. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling better, thank you."

"That's good," I replied, really feeling relieved at how well he was recovering. The rustling of the white plastic bag was like ominous rumbles of thunder, the sounds of snapping wood too loud in the suffocating silence as I handed a carton to him before picking up my own. We ate in silence for a few moments, letting the tension in the room slowly leach out.

By the time I caught him scraping the sides of his carton with his chopsticks, I decided that it was now or never. Clearing my throat, I set my carton aside before picking up the manila folder with the photocopy of Charlie's report. "Have a read of that and tell me what you think," I said with a nonchalance I didn't feel. He set the empty carton on his bedside table and seized the proffered file.

His eyes narrowed as he scrutinised the report with a detective's eye for detail, and I watched as the colour slowly receded from his face, leaving it an ashen grey. When he looked up at me the anger glinting in the blue depths was unmistakeable. "You had no right to enter my apartment. You had no right to ask Charlie to do this," he stated calmly, the anger bleeding into his voice at the end. "You knew I didn't want to start an investigation. Charlie now has no choice but to act."

I shook my head. "This was a, uh, personal request. A favour. What happens next is up to you."

A look of confusion crossed his features and he directed his gaze to look down at his fingers, at the file sitting open in his lap. There was a great shuddering breath before he spoke in a small voice tinged with fear and regret. "I won't be filing an official complaint. There is nothing to report." Meeting my gaze, he passed the file back to me before continuing. "Now, if you would please burn it-"

"Danno," something broke inside me with the use of that name. It left a bitter taste in my mouth. "We have conclusive evidence against the person who did this to you, put you in here in the first place."

He shook his head vehemently, biting his bottom lip. "No, Steve. I can't do that. No."

"Are you willing to let a man capable of doing this to you, hurting you in this way to roam the streets?" Indignant anger filtered through into my voice and he turned away from me. "Are you willing to let this happen a second time to another innocent party?"

I was met with stony silence. The wonderful thing about anger is that it left you with a sense of accomplishing something. Looking back, perhaps I was venting at him. Perhaps I said some things which I shouldn't have. But at that moment it was catharsis for my soul. I was truly convinced I had his best interests at heart.

"You have a duty as a law enforcement official to not let this happen to anyone else, to stop crime where there is a possibility that you can do so," I admonished, standing up to pace the small, cramped length of floor between him and the door. I could no longer sit still. Fixing him with a black glare, I continued despite his discomfort. "You must come forward and file that report so that the proper action can be taken against him. Are you really willing to sweep this under the rug?"

"How dare you," came his accusatory quiet reply.

"How dare you even consider doing something so shameful!" I shot back, anger racing through my veins. My heart thumped in my chest as the blood rushed past my ears.

I glared at him from the foot of his bed until he had the shame to look away. He hefted a huge sigh that went down to his very toes before he tried to continue in a more detached, cold tone. "There is nothing to report." Danny's voice softened with the next words. "Keanu is not the person you are looking for. Please, Steve. Just drop this. You will be making a very big mistake otherwise."

His words had me choking back a sob. Fumbling for the back of that rickety chair, I quickly sat down on it before my knees buckled and gave way. The implications of his words were damning. For the next few moments, I concentrated on my breathing. I felt very light headed all of a sudden.

He was one of the most ruthless detectives I knew. When he wanted to be relentless, his tenacity rivalled mine. He certainly didn't disappoint as his tone became more meaningful. "Keanu is a special friend of mine, Steve. He is not the person you are looking for. Please, do not throw away your career because of this." Danny paused for dramatic effect. "Our sacrifice will be in vein, otherwise."

Blinking back the suspicious stinging in my eyes, a few moments passed before I could meet his clear blue gaze. I thought that I would see anger, indignation and the gloating triumph of the righteous but I saw none of that. What I did see was the hurt lurking there, the reluctance to continue with what he was saying. He offered me an apology with his eyes, for he knew precisely how well and truly he was hurting me.

My throat clicked as I swallowed, finding my voice. "I… You could be throwing your whole career away with this… this indiscretion. Has what happened between us not shown you that?" I was shocked that he had taken on another lover. Perhaps I had harboured some sort of belief that even though we couldn't be together, he would not take another lover. It was a stupid and completely ridiculous thought, but the vehemence with which I believed it was startling.

"That is something for me to worry about," he replied, apropos of specifically nothing. "Please do not concern yourself with such trivial matters."

The silence stretched, becoming uncomfortable before I asked the question that had been burning at the back of my throat since his revelation. "Then… what we had, what we had… it meant nothing to you?"

Unconsciously my hand moved towards his, grasping his smaller one between my fingers. His skin was rough and dry, but warm, so stiflingly warm. I bet you it would still have tasted of salt and musk were I to taste it. He jolted, trying to pull his hand away. The desperation of his next statement cut through me, worse than any knife could. "Please, I do not want you. I _will _not want you."

I dropped his hand as if it had burned me. I understood perfectly the agony with which he had struggled – was struggling with.

The first few months after our forced distance were the hardest. Slowly, I had managed to convince myself that I didn't _need _him like how I needed air or water. Still, the residual ache flared up in me again. Even after all these months I was shocked at how strongly and easily it came. It made me more miserable to see that he was just as miserable, if not more miserable than I was and that the past few months had been horrible for him. It was hard enough walking past each other every second day, pretending not to see one another.

He slowly raised himself off the bed to face me, bracing his hands against the sides of my face, the pads of his hands resting lightly against my jaw. A calloused thumb ran down the side of my face and my breath hitched as he stared at me, willing me to understand the words which he could not say, which were unable to be said. Desire sparked through me with the first tentative touch and before I could control myself Danny planted his lips over mine, capturing them in a kiss that was dark and brutal yet strangely tender.

"What it means to me," he said, close enough that his lips brushed mine with every word as he nuzzled my jaw, planting hot kisses at the juncture where my skin peaked out under the starched collar of my white shirt. Despite the fog of lust that surrounded my brain, I noted that he had used present tense, and for that something inside me broke. "Is more than I can ever put into words and do justice for."

The first touch of skin on skin was electrifying and before long I found myself responding with ardent passion, the flimsy barriers of self-control I had erected to protect myself coming down in a glorious ruin. My arms wrapped themselves around his thin frame and I pulled him closer to me before angling for yet another kiss. Soon his mouth opened and I took my time in plundering in, stealing what warmth and comfort I could, stockpiling it for the long and lonely nights that were to come. He tasted of cigarettes and coffee, but underneath that there was the unique sweetness of him. I couldn't get enough of it.

Yet, I couldn't forget where we were, or the chance that a nurse could enter and catch us like this. He had sacrificed his own personal happiness so that I could keep my illustrious career, so that I would be able to continue to serve the people of these Islands.

It would have been so easy to throw him back on the bed and peel the covers down and mark him, removing any sign of that animal who had claimed him in my absence. I knew in my heart of hearts that he wouldn't say no, that he was just as hungry as I was.

I forced myself to let him go, clenching my jaw to stop the soft hiss of the sob that rose up in my throat. My fingers clumsily pried themselves of their accustomed place on his biceps, the cotton fabric of his hospital gown creased and crinkled with the desperation with which I had clutched him.

"So you see-" he panted between breaths, his voice rough and dark with the edge of carnal hunger. He was just as affected as I was. I didn't think that he was going to be as affected as he was. "You know where I stand on this matter."

The fog of lust cleared up and in the sober light of the hospital room it occurred to me just how hopeless the situation really was. I was no closer to finding the bastards who had done this to him and I had discovered that he was truly just as miserable as I was. That we both longed for the same thing, which had been steadfastly refused us – each other.

That kiss had not eased the hunger for him. Instead it had doubled it, even tripled it.

The earlier anger of finding out that he had taken a lover bubbled up again. I wanted to throw myself on top of him and force him to concede that there was only me, and that there was only ever going to be me. The small rational side of my brain reminded me of the many nights where I had considered doing the same thing, yet hadn't, all because I had convinced myself that the sexual part of me had died that very morning when Jameson had given us our walking papers.

He was the most complex man I knew. He was willing to walk right into the waiting arms of death with a sense of selflessness that I hadn't seen before yet shied away from personal justice or vengeance. Let the law deal with them, he would often say. Yet despite the self-discipline he was also the most kind, generous man I had had the pleasure of knowing who took unholy delight in good food, friendship and lovemaking. I knew that even to my dying day, I would not be able to unravel the emotional complexities that made up Danny Williams.

I hated the transparency of the jealousy in my voice. I might as well have been green with envy. My self-control seemed to disappear with my next statement. "So you took another to your bed, despite your feelings on the matter."

He groaned with frustration and rubbed a hand through the sandy curls. "I do not expect you to understand why I do what I do." The testiness of his voice told me I had touched a nerve, but at that point I was too beyond mere anger to care. I wanted to lash out and strike, make him hurt just as much as he had hurt me. "And who are you to judge me?"

"I'm beginning to," I growled. If I could have screamed, I would have. Instead, I carried on in a hushed tone after a sigh, afraid that the nurses would hear us out in the corridor. "Danny, we have handled this the wrong way. We've failed each other. We should have talked about it and perhaps handled it a bit better, but we didn't."

"We did exactly what was expected of us," he answered coldly. I blinked, wondering if the tenderness of the kiss had been real. I reminded myself that he could be a consummate liar if he wanted to. "Now, it's too late. We must each lie in the beds we have made. What I do in my personal life is now none of your business."

His next words hammered the finality of the situation far more effectively than any nail could. "The next time I catch you entering my property without a search warrant or my permission, I will press charges."

I wanted to scream that what we had was nothing, and that he was an outrageous idiot if he thought that I had been just as affected as he was. That he was nothing to me except a bad memory, but I didn't. Mute with anger, I collected the file and stalked towards the door. As I pulled open the door I caught a glimpse of him just before it closed. He looked as distraught as I felt but as soon as he saw me staring at him, his face settled into an impassive mask again.

It didn't occur to me until I was breezing down the highway that he was actively trying to push me away, but by then it was too late. The long drive along the winding road with the balmy evening wind whipping past my face had cooled the raging fire of anger until only the smouldering remnants were left. I felt strangely listless and defeated.

His words had been deliberately hurtful, designed to cut deeply and hurt where it counted yet that kiss was full of emotion, full of the warmth of which I had been so starved. I might not know much about that sort of thing but I knew that that sort of emotion couldn't be faked.

Keenly frustrated, I decided to head home. A dull headache throbbed and I was no closer to unwinding this mess than I had been at the start. Since Danny didn't want to pursue an official investigation, there was nothing for me to do. I told myself I didn't care, and that this meant that there was less work for me. Five-O had three cases open at the moment and I certainly didn't need to add more to that.

I didn't care, and that was that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Iolani Palace, Honolulu, April 1980**

The front of the palace was decorated with ribbons of blue, white and red streaming along the eaves, posters of Jameson arranged on easels surrounding the entrance. The man himself stood behind an imposing podium, the hot bulbs of the cameras going off in front of us, leaving stars floating in front of eyes. I stood to his right, no more than an art prop there to give whatever he had to say some sort of gravitas. I resented the man more than ever.

He had kicked off the official election campaign finally today and announced that he will still be contesting the seat of Governor. He gave a long spiel about ridding the Islands of crime, how organised crime had decreased by however so much percent and how we had a future of prosperity and safety to look forward to. In the light of day I saw him for what he truly was, a two faced jackal. Here he was espousing the ideals of liberty and freedom, yet he was willing to use his powers to separate Danny and I, just because the scandal would have rocked the law enforcement world on its heels.

I hold no delusions, and know precisely what people think of men like me, which was why I worked too hard to cultivate a reputation of steely toughness, of no-nonsense and aloofness. I was disgusted to see the public eagerly lap up what he fed them, clapping and cheering and being the mindless sheep that they were.

Discreetly glancing at my watch, I counted the seconds as they ticked by. There were so many other things that I could be, should be doing at this moment. This press conference had already eaten up the majority of my morning and mentally I turned over how much later I would have to stay back to finish the backlog of work.

Not that there was anything to come home to, mind you.

Finally, the crowd cheered and despite the din, I could hear the shutters of the cameras as photographers took their fill of photographs. I would have slinked away, out of sight but for the iron grip that Jameson kept on my arm. I plastered a smile on my face that I didn't feel, waiting out this unique agony.

When the Governor let go of my arm I receded into the relative darkness of the palace before climbing the steps two at a time. The afternoon sunshine had given me a headache and I rubbed my right temple as I pushed the door to the office open. As soon as I crossed the threshold, I stopped dead in my tracks.

There, sitting on the row of chairs outside my office adjacent to my secretary, Iolani, was Jonathan Kaye. The last I had heard of him, he had managed to become Lead Agent overseeing the Pacific Area of the States. He looked distinctly worse for wear; there was a five o'clock shadow on his chin and he looked exhausted, his clothes crinkles and he appeared to sag in the chair.

When he saw me approaching he turned his bleary eyes towards me before his face cracked into a pleased grin. "Steve," he said, grabbing my hand in a vicious handshake. "You look great. Mind if we have a word in your office?"

I nodded, curious. "Good to see you too, Jonathan."

Kaye didn't make social visits – he only sought you out if he wanted something from you, and I knew that it had to be big to warrant him to come and see me personally. Whatever it was, it was too big to discuss over the phone. Opening the door, I stepped aside for him to walk in before throwing a directive at Iolani. "Hold all incoming calls except if it's the Governor. Put him straight through."

"Sure, Steve," she dimpled at me as I closed the door.

I turned around to see Kaye sitting on the sofa rather than the straight-backed white chairs perched in front of my desk. Moving to settle on the seat adjacent to him, I cut straight to business. "Why are you here, Jonathan? What urgent business requires this impromptu audience?"

"We believe we may have found where Wo Fat is, Steve, and we need your help." He proceeded to pull up the briefcase at his feet before opening it, handing me a folder marked with status "Top Secret."

For the next hour or so, I listened to Kaye as he outlined the plan without going into too much detail. American and British Intelligence had been carefully spreading the rumour of a laser defence system situated in space.

"So you see," the lead CIA agent explained as he tapped his leg with his hand. "We plan to flush out Wo Fat. His silence over the past two years is unsettling. It either means things are quiet in Beijing or else he is really going places. Given the information we have received from our own sources, the Chinese government looks poised to strike out. We think that losing Wo Fat will be a detrimental blow to their psyche."

Looking up from the very intricate fake laser calibration results and plans for the defence system, I met his gaze evenly. "What makes you so sure that you will isolate just the Chinese? Remember that the Russians are also interested in the space race."

"Let us worry about the Russians, Steve," Kaye laughed.

"Why not just send undercover surveillance or use the double agents you have in the government?"

At my question he immediately sobered up. His next words had an air of finality to them. "Let us decide how we use our resources. So, are you in or are you out?"

"In," I said, without missing a beat. "Definitely."

"Good," the lead CIA agent replied. "Very good. Knew I could count on your cooperation. Now," he paused to pull out a bulky, heavy yellow envelope and passed it to me. "We have been able to ascertain that Wo Fat will be at a conference of scientists at a certain island location noted on your plane ticket there. We've procured an identity for you so that you can pass through the conference without too much fuss."

I pulled the Californian driver's licence out of the envelope. "Professor Elton Raintree." Raising an eyebrow, I shot a quizzical look at him. "Have the CIA run out of pseudonyms for people to use?"

"It was generated by our central computer," Kaye explained with a shrug. "Anyway, full details of what is happening and how it will all go down are in that envelope. If you have any questions, call the Honolulu Hilton and ask for Bertrand Wilson."

Mentally noting the alias he was travelling under, I nodded. He was at the door by the time I asked the question I had wanted to since he had explained the plan to me. "Why me, Jonathan? Why not any other CIA operative?"

He paused, his hand above the doorknob. Slowly, he turned around and faced me, choosing his words very carefully. "Given your personal history with the Red Chinese Agent and your Naval background, I figured that you would be the most likely candidate for this assignment. Besides," his voice had a lighter lilt to it. "The staff in this office need a breather. Danny will most probably welcome it."

"Danny doesn't work here anymore," I answered, my voice strained. "He went over to HPD a few months ago."

"Ah. Well then," the agent backpedalled. I mentally cursed myself for the transparency of my emotions. "I'm sure you have someone to replace him and mind the shop while you are gone." He closed the door, leaving me to the silence of the empty office.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Unidentified Island location off the coast of Maui, April 1980 **

"Through a dozen adventures, which have had no resolution, we now come to an end to this... this morality play," Wo Fat enunciated carefully, his Confucian demeanour grating my nerves.

I don't know what the mysterious white gas he had pumped into the compound had been, but afterwards it made me angry, so very angry. I generally avoid violence if I can, but as we circled each other like a pair of roosters in a fight, I wanted to rip the smirk right of his damn face. I wanted to shove those pretentious words right down his throat again.

Being face to face with the person who had torn the most meaningful friendship I had to shreds did funny things. The branches crunched under my feet as the long grass licked my ankles. The earlier altercation had left me with a jarred shoulder but I didn't care. My focus was entirely on the Red Chinese agent in front of me.

The stalemate broke when a bird cawed overhead and there was the loud flutter of wings. Wo Fat lunged at me, knocking the wind out of me as he backed me straight into a tree and proceeded to try and pummel the air out of me. He wrapped an arm around my midriff before he threw a punch to my abdomen.

Reaching out, I pushed him away from just enough to gain enough leverage to put a booted foot between us and kick him. He flew backwards and landed on his back, the heavy thud reverberating in the otherwise silence of the rainforest. I launched myself on top of him and locked his legs with the weight of my body before striking his jaw, flinging his head to the side.

He grabbed my shoulders and threw me to the side, before reversing our positions. I found my legs pinned beneath his and he leaned forward, pressing the full weight of his upper body against my torso, pressing hard enough that breathing became difficult. I concentrated on pulling in enough oxygen so that I didn't black out.

The Chinese man grabbed my right wrist with his hand before giving it a strong wrench that had me screaming in pain. Jolts of agony shot up and down my right arm and I didn't have to look at my hand to realise that the wrist was the very least strained, if not broken. Gritting my teeth, I blinked the sweat out of my eyes and tried to bodily throw him off of me, but to no avail.

Grinning, he smirked with the knowledge that he had the upper hand. "Please do not try that, it certainly didn't work for Mr Williams, thus it is not much more likely to work for you."

I froze, my eyes narrowing as I took in the sight of Wo Fat's face. The ramifications of his words were startling. Surely he didn't mean-

"Oh, but I do." Wo Fat replied, reading my thoughts. "I feel that the least I can do before I kill you," he reached down into the pocket of his cargo pants and extracted a Swiss knife before choosing the blade. "I can provide you with an explanation."

He leaned back up, giving me some more moving room. I had just inched forward to gain more leverage when I felt the cold metal of the knife digging at the side of my throat, where the juncture between neck and shoulder was. The pressure was increased until I couldn't move anymore – if I were to more so much as an inch the knife would slice my skin open.

"What do you mean by that? Explanation of what?" I asked hoarsely. My heart thudded painfully in my chest. I knew whatever he had to say, I didn't want to hear.

He fixed me with a level gaze. "Throughout the years of our acquaintance, I had been searching for a weakness of character with which to exploit to bring about the best possible results for me and my country. A perversity, gambling addiction, loved one – I had been searching for the past twelve years of our acquaintance for something. I was very glad to say that my enduring patience paid off."

"I have no weakness," I denied.

"Oh, Mr McGarrett, but that is where you are wrong," Wo Fat cheerfully replied. "Thanks to our very intelligent friends the Russians, my government was able to procure the latest telephoto lens technology. In other words, we acquired a new means of conducting surveillance on those whom we wish to."

"That's another crime to add to the long list after your name," I growled. "An additional charge of breaking and entering." I didn't want to hear this anymore, didn't want to be reminded of what I had lost. Now was hardly the time, since I needed to keep my head and wits about me.

This was how Wo Fat fought his wars. Very rarely did the Chinese agent venture into the realm of the vulgar, of physical threats and violence. No, he preferred to set the strategem in place much the same way a chess master would and sit back to calculate the defeat of his opponent, move by move. Right now, his strategy was to get under my skin, squeeze every drop of satisfaction from this unendurable torment, much the same way a killer takes vicious delight in watching the light fade out of his victim's eyes.

Even if I died, I was not going to give Wo Fat that pleasure. I won't let him get under my skin even if he flayed me verbally and physically, because I owed it to myself and to Danny, to stay strong for us.

"One of these new telephoto lenses is smaller than the head of a pin, barely detectable unless you have expensive de-bugging equipment the likes of which Hawaii, let alone America has seen. An example of this fine technology was installed into your apartment in the hopes that it might capture some material which could be used in our favour."

"Save your breath, Wo Fat. There is no use is dredging up ancient history," I snapped, moving just the slightest inch backwards. The press of that knife became more insistent the further this dialogue went on.

"Suffice to say that as soon as the transmitter controlling that particular lens was turned on, imagine myself and my comrades getting an eyeful of you at your most intimate moment," the Chinese agent continued. "I had never given much thought to how two men carry out that particular act. I learned that night from watching you and Mr Williams."

He was pushing hard for an explosion but I wasn't going to give him the pleasure. "So you did the only thing that you could and resorted to blackmailing Jameson to split us up. Why?"

"Why?" he queried, "But why not is the more appropriate question?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You and Mr Williams have thwarted several of my attempts to interfere with the running of Hawaii. Together, you were stronger than the sum of your strengths individually. You were a force which had to be removed or disabled at the very least. The very core working relationship between you, the bedrock of Five-O, had to be crushed," the disgust in his voice was palpable and I knew that if he could let go of me he would. "Homosexuality is a frowned upon practice. In many cultures, such as my own, it is a criminal offence. What better way to ensure the cooperation of your superior? To borrow an old American idiom - 'strike while the iron is hot.'"

"What did you mean earlier, the statement you made about Danny?" I diverted. I had had enough of his windy rhetoric and I didn't want to hear anymore.

"Mr Williams can be rather obstinate should he wish to," Wo Fat explained. "He honestly thought that the two of you could still be together despite the ultimatum that we had forced upon your Governor."

"You had been watching him," I said, aghast.

"He was determined to find a way for the two of you to be together. We had discovered this and it was a hindrance to our plan."

"But you had succeeded in your plan. You had separated us and reduced the efficacy of the police unit generally," I stated. It was obvious that the reason why the state police unit worked so well was that Danny and I worked in synchronicity. We were compliments rather than substitutes for each other.

"No," Wo Fat admitted, shifting slightly. "My plan had yet to start and already one of the people privy to it was rebelling. I couldn't take that chance, I had to stop Mr Williams once and for all. I couldn't let the two of you resume this way of relating of yours."

My blood ran cold with his next words. "What did you do?" I demanded. Indignant anger licked at my insides and I could feel my muscles tensing and clenching.

"We ensured that Mr Williams would be incapable of linking sexual relations to affection or any other positive feeling. It was done in the best interests of-"

What he had been about to say I wasn't sure. A surge of adrenaline fuelled fury propelled me forward. The sharp pain as the knife cut the skin of my neck was barely noticeable as I shoved Wo Fat onto his back. Grabbing his hand, I grunted as I pried the knife out of his hand before throwing it to the side, scrambling to get up. I kicked him several times in the abdomen, feeling delight at the way he tried to curl onto himself in a feeble effort to guard against my blows. I fell to my knees before I continued to let the anger, hurt and anguish pour out of me.

My wrist throbbed in counterpoint to the punches that landed across Wo Fat's face but I didn't care. At that moment if I get my hands on this man and tear into pieces, I felt like I would die.

I didn't waste breath on any hateful words or promises of vengeance. Finally, when the terror was apparent in his beady little eyes, I threw him harshly onto the ground. He grunted as he landed on his leg and it was then I realised that it was sticking out at an odd angle. The silvery glint of something along the tall grass caught my eye and I saw the reflection of the metal of the pocketknife he had threatened me with earlier an arm's length away.

Ascertaining that Wo Fat was immobile, I made a grab for the weapon. The smooth bevelled edge of the plastic casing felt heavy in my hands, and for the first time in my life I found myself wielding a knife not in self-defence. Through the haze of red I set my jaw in stone and approached him, holding the knife out in front of me. I felt vicious satisfaction watching the formerly imposing Red agent nearly go cross-eyed as he tried to keep the knife in sight as I pressed the sharp tip against his nose, returning the favour.

"You shouldn't have done that," I rasped between panting breaths. "You turned this into something personal, and overstepped the line. You are no more responsible for your actions than my own."

Mechanically, I transferred the knife from my right hand to my left. The dull pain constantly radiating from my right wrist could no longer be ignored and I clenched my teeth to stop the groan of pain that welled up each time I moved the limb. I let the blade of the knife slide down the side of his flabby cheek until it rested under his ear. One swift movement across and I would have slit his throat ear to ear.

I didn't know why I said this, but in that moment I felt compelled to. Wo Fat obviously didn't care, but I think it was more for my own benefit than anything. A fitting conclusion for the appropriate cathartic moment before death. "Danny didn't deserve what you and your men did to him. Through your actions you have caused pain to countless people and damaged many friendships and destroyed so many families. You don't deserve mercy, you don't deserve to see the light of justice." My voice had grown rougher, and to prove my point I pressed the knife against the skin of his neck hard enough to see blood well up on the tip. His eyes widened in alarm and he tried to scramble away but a foot on his hand stopped that and he howled in agony as I crushed the bones in his fingers.

My grip on the knife tightened and I prepared to run the knife across his neck from ear to ear.

_This was for Danny and me, for everything we had lost due to the barbaric actions of this man in front of me. Lord, give me the strength to carry out this act._

The seconds trickled by, gradually leading into minutes. I held the knife, poised to strike. I had expected Wo Fat to beg for mercy, plead for clemency. What I did not expect was to see the smug smile, the triumph shining in his eyes. "Our business will be complete with your next turn, Mr McGarrett."

I couldn't. My hand was paralysed and the fingers were cramping from holding the knife too tightly. Deep down, I knew that what I was doing was wrong. I couldn't kill this man in cold blood. Frustrated, I tried to rely on the fury that had allowed me to break free of his grip earlier, but all I found there was a hollow sense of despair. The raging inferno that had consumed me earlier had burned out, leaving nothing but smouldering embers, memories of a flame.

To kill Wo Fat, to finally get earthly vengeance for all of his wrongdoings against me would prove that I was no better than him. That I was incapable of separating the personal from the rational, that I was ruled by some sort of baser drive over which I had no control.

Most of all, I couldn't allow Wo Fat the pleasure of claiming the final victory against me, against Danny. To kill him and surrender to the fathomless darkness, the craving for revenge would mean that what Danny had sacrificed, what I had sacrificed would have been in vain. My career in law enforcement would be over if I were to take a life in anything but self-defence.

In the horizon the mechanical whirring of a helicopter steadily got louder. Finally, the Navy and CIA had been able to get a pinpoint location from the homing device sewn into my blue shirt disguised as a button.

Slowly, I forced my hands to loosen from their death grip on the knife. Slowly, I eased the pressure on his neck, ignoring the red glint of blood in the afternoon sunlight as I held it in front of me. It was all over.

I heaved a tremendous sigh, but I wasn't sure if it was from relief, or self-disgust.


	6. Chapter 6

**Queen's Hospital, Honolulu, April 1980**

Bergman had told me that I had been extremely lucky. Wo Fat had managed to narrowly avoid nicking my carotid artery with his knife work. The blood loss from the cut to my neck as I rushed him was substantial, but there was no risk of death by ex-sanguination.

However, there were other reasons which made me feel like I was lucky. One of them was that we finally captured Wo Fat. Since he was caught on American soil, he was subject to American law and the Chinese government was only all too happy to hand the renegade Red agent over to us. It seemed that he had defected from the government, choosing to follow a Chinese commander bent on destruction and warfare, rather than world peace. They washed their hands of him. As far as I understood, not a single attempt was made to raise the old argument of diplomatic immunity.

The concept of the cunning rogue rotting away behind bars had a nice ring to it, but the thing that really made my heart sing with joy was the pleasant sight of Danny by my side. When I regained consciousness, I opened my eyes expecting to see an empty chair next to the bed. Instead, I saw the familiar head of sandy curls, fast asleep with a newspaper half dangling from his lap. I blinked, willing to believe that I wasn't really dead, that this wasn't really a dream or a hallucination of the delirious.

"Danno," I croaked, hating how desperate and croaky my voice sounded.

He stirred immediately, coming back to consciousness. He saw me looking at him and smiled brilliantly. "Steve, you've come round. How do you feel?"

"Rotten," I replied truthfully. Everywhere hurt and there was a double halo around everything. That told me I had at the very least a concussion. Looking down at my fingers, I was surprised to see his hand curled around mine, holding it loosely. The wrist of my right hand was covered in a cast which ended halfway up my forearm. My neck itched horribly, and I lifted my right hand to try and scratch it, only to connect with thick cottony bandages. It was then I noticed the alarming blue, purple and black bruises on my knuckles. I felt tired down to my bones and wrung dry. "How long have I been here?"

"Two days," he replied. "You've been floating in and out of consciousness for a while. Having the amount of opiates you do in your bloodstream tends to do that to a person."

"That explains why there's a ten second delay between the message and my brain," I countered, feeling more at ease than I had in months. Looking out to the window, I felt perfectly content as I watched the fluffy white clouds roll lazily by.

"When you're better and more yourself, Steve, we'll have a talk about things," Danny ventured out very seriously.

I grinned. "You can count on it, Danno."

With something to look forward to, my days were productive and eventful. In the mornings Lori, Kimo and Duke would come over and we'd go over Five-O's caseload.

With Lori's hard work, she was able to locate a stoolie pigeon who had witnessed the murder of a young girl who had indentified the murderer as underground casino owner Hor Kwan Yip. The informant had said the girl had been killed because she was skimming from the night's takings before the big boss could get to them. I felt proud that she was a member of Five-O, and I was sure that she would blossom into a great detective under my wing. The brief was being sent over to Manicote as soon as it was finalised. Eve Anderson's parents would finally be able to get the closure they deserve.

Like clockwork, Danny would come during his lunchbreak with a thermos of hot coffee and some sandwiches – chicken for him, tuna for me. His arrival signalled the end of the morning meeting and I would assign tasks for the team to complete. I particularly enjoyed entrusting Kimo with the responsibility of the monthly budget reports and expense accounts.

However, following my third day in hospital, Kimo stayed behind. "Steve, a private word with you, if you mind?"

Danny looked to me. Nodding my head, he went outside to wait, leaving the brown paper bag of food on the bedside table. "Okay Kimo, what is it?"

"Danny," my Second-In-Command groused. Was that nervousness in his voice? "I'm wondering if I should just hand in my resignation and spare everyone from the scandal of being fired."

"What?" I asked, "What makes you think that your position is in any sort of danger?"

The thought had been a pressing one. I was warming up to the idea of Danny as my Second-In-Command and a return to the status quo. How I missed it.

"It's just that you and he have been kind of cozy of late," he replied with his usual surly belligerence. "It would be nice if you could let me know in advance so I can leave on my own terms, thanks."

I laughed. A good defence is a good offence. "When I do decide, you'll be the first one to know."

Accepting my answer, he moved towards the door and opened it, holding it wide open for Danny to come inside. The sandy haired detective thanked him, and he stalked off. I bit my cheek to avoid laughing in amusement.

"What's up with him?" Danny asked as he settled down in his customary chair next to my bed.

"Don't mind him, his bark is worse than his bite," I replied, grabbing the brown paper bag and throwing him his chicken sandwich which he caught with deft hands.

As I slowly chewed my way through the tuna sandwich, I turned the idea of asking Danny back into the fold of Five-O. Now that Wo Fat was out of the picture, there was no need for this enforced distance between us. The sword over our heads had dropped. Things could go back to the way they had been and we could be lovers again. The Chinese had revealed that Wo Fat had gone rogue after the business in Hong Kong three years ago with the nerve gas.

The idea became more pleasing the more I thought about it. If we were careful about it, there was no reason why we couldn't just resume our relationship. Our friendship had survived this, if his presence here was an indicator of anything, and given time, I was sure that we could progress from friends to lovers.

"Danno, what would you say about coming back to Five-O?" Never one for mincing my agenda, I cut straight to the point.

He choked on his sandwich, and after a few mouthfuls of coffee, he composed himself enough to answer. "I thought you were happy with Jim Carew."

"He was just a temporary, until the real thing was available again. You are my Second-In-Command, and always will be."

Digesting this information, he took another bite of his sandwich to give himself some thinking time. Eager for an answer, I pressed a little harder. "It can be just like old times. What do you say?"

"I… I'm sorry, I really am, but I _can't,_" Danny replied, looking suddenly very miserable. Wrapping the remainder of the sandwich inside the baking paper again, he put it on the table, looking very defeated.

There was pinpoint silence in the room, until I found my voice. "Why?" I asked softly.

"I haven't told many people, but Aunt Clara recently passed away. She left me her house up in Staten Island. I have to go up there and sort a few things out," he explained, talking more to his shoes than to me. The pain in his voice was clear.

"Danno," I croaked, talking around the lump in my throat. "I'm very sorry." I knew for a fact that he loved that woman. She was the last living relative that he had, his last tie to his identity. Her death would have been a tremendous blow.

"But that's not it." Taking a deep shuddering breath, he began to explain haltingly. "It's all gotten too close to home, Steve. The reason why they were able to hurt me so well and truly was that they knew the lengths I'd go to protect you. They've hurt me in ways which make me feel that I can never really be a man again. I can't go through that again, I can't let myself get that close to anyone again."

"Whatever it is," I said, reaching to grab his shoulder. "We can work through it. Together."

He flinched away from me, and I will not admit how much that simple action stung. "No, Steve. Not this time."

"Then this, what did you hope to accomplish with this?" I waved my hand to the stack of crinkled newspapers we had ploughed through together, the half-eaten sandwich lying on my bedside table and the thermos of coffee and mug of tea sitting next to the half-eaten sandwich.

He sighed. "I had been coming here every day, looking for a chance to break the news to you." Without missing a beat, he continued. "I'll be leaving the Islands tomorrow."

The pit of my stomach dropped out with shock. "Danno, please reconsider. Take a moment to think things through-"

"I have," he cut across. "And I've come to my decision. I am hoping that by putting some distance between us we can gradually heal. This ordeal with Wo Fat has shown me that I can't care about another person in my line of work as much as I do about you. It's dangerous, and there is no more perspective on things. Where there's no perspective then there is no safety. To get that perspective, there has to be a degree of separation."

"Danno…" I understood perfectly what he was saying. If he were to come back, there would come a day where I would be forced to choose between doing what was right and what felt right, forced to chose between carrying out my duty under the law or to protect a cherished one. There was no need to guess what my course of action would be. My hand had been shaking as I held the knife to Wo Fat's throat that terrible day in the rainforest.

"I'll always be mad and crazy for you, but I now understand that what we had can be just as dangerous at it is wonderful. We need this distance between us to protect ourselves."

I wanted to beg him to stay on the Islands, to stay here with me. Yet, my pride wouldn't allow such an obvious expression of need. Perhaps I could have been more candid, like how he had been with me. I should have told him that he was wrong and that we could make things work, but I couldn't do that to him. I wouldn't have been able to provide the emotional support that he needed, when he needed it. My feelings for him weren't enough. It couldn't keep him safe, or make him happy.

I had managed to convince myself that he was tough and would be able to handle anything that came his way as my Second-In-Command and my lover. I had believed that if I could keep our relationship a secret then it would all work out well. Unfortunately, I was horribly wrong. I couldn't have him anymore, for the very same reason why I had never bothered to take a wife.

I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if he died.

I couldn't live with myself knowing that the person who I cared the most about was in constant danger, the threat of vengeance and retribution dangling over his head like the sword of Damocles.

Right then, the bleakness of our future together became apparent to me.

I had already overexposed myself with this relationship and had made myself extremely vulnerable. Slowly, I shied away behind the mask of indifference I wore like a second skin. "I understand. You have probably thought this decision through and decided to take the course of action that promoted your best interests. Now go, I know you have more pressing things to attend to then remain here. I do not want to keep you from doing _your _duty," I spat.

Packing up his meagre lunch and thermos of coffee, he stood up and looked at me, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Goodbye, Steve."

He waited for me, but I turned my head to the side. If I didn't say it, it wouldn't make it real.

Turning abruptly on his heel, he stalked out of the hospital room, closing the door behind him with a soft snap, the finality of it louder than any gunshot.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Residence of Steve McGarrett, Honolulu, April 1980**

The rest of my stay in hospital passed by uneventfully and in another two days I was discharged once they were certain that there were no latent head injuries. They told me I was fine, and I felt physically fine, if not a bit tired. Duke had picked me up from the hospital and driven me home. He also told me more news about Danny. I wanted to tell him to shut up, that I didn't want to hear it, but I didn't have the heart to do it. I listened to the information he had hungrily, scanning it for anything that I could use.

The Hawaiian detective said that Danny had flown out of Honolulu the very next day. He was going to apply to the NYPD for a job as a detective. Given his work with Five-O and the HPD I was sure that he would have no problems and be able to get the things he wanted done.

Duke pulled into the car park of my apartment complex before helping me with my overnight bag up the stairs. Physically, I felt fine. The aspirin was helping tremendously with the lingering aches and pains and my hand had stopped throbbing in counterpoint to my heart. Using my keys to unlock the front door, he pushed it open before bending down to pick up the mail that the landlady had been pushing underneath my door. My letterbox had been full so she had been collecting my mail and feeding it under my door.

Placing my bag inside next to the door, Duke put the accumulated mail onto my coffee table before turning around to face me. "Take things easy for the next few days, Steve. Kimo and I can handle things back at the office for a while."

"Thanks, Duke." I moved past him, going to sit down on the sofa. The trip home had tired me and I desired the peace and quiet of my apartment, the absence of the constant beeping of the hospital machines peaceful.

"Anytime." With that he was gone.

I closed my eyes for a few moments, allowing my body to sink into the soft, comfortable cushions before I opened them again. The wonderful silence washed over me, broken by nothing but the gentle ticking of the clock hanging over the mantelpiece.

Since I had never been one for idleness, I reached out for the mail, grabbing the yellow envelope half-hidden under two utility bills. I froze when I recognised the family messy scrawl with which my name and address had been scrawled across the thick paper.

The air suddenly became too thin in here. Hastily standing up, I moved towards the lanai, pushing the glass door open before stepping outside. The fresh afternoon air was rejuvenating, and I felt calm when I sat down on one of the chairs of the outdoor setting. My apartment was situated high above the city and in the light of the afternoon the ocean peaked out from between the tops of the palm trees, shining iridescently in the sunlight.

My hands shook as I tore the top of the envelope off before reaching in to pull out the contents. A warm emotion welled up in me when I saw the familiar picture of us together at the Los Angeles law enforcement conference when we were together, when we were happy.

I wondered if he was as miserable I was, there in the much colder New York Springtime with its almost claustrophobic maze of high-rise buildings and the Statue of Liberty. I wondered if he was sitting there with his cigarette in hand, looking out over the horizon towards the sun. I wondered if he felt it, that gnawing sense of loss, of something being missing like how I was.

Tracing my thumb against the line of his jaw, I was surprised to see a drop of wetness hit the photograph. With shaking hands, I grabbed the edges of the photograph, slightly dog eared at the edges and pulled, tearing it in two. I repeated the process, blinking profusely to try and stave off the tears that stung my eyes.

When there was nothing left but tiny fragments, I opened my hand, holding them towards the ocean. The small pieces glinted softly in the sunlight and I caught a glimpse of clear blue eyes looking at me. My breath caught in my throat.

A strong breeze blew past, kicking up the remnants of the photograph out of my outstretched hands, away from the balcony and away from me.

I didn't feel the sense of resolution I had been expecting. If anything, I felt even worse. Up until that point I felt like I had been holding myself together with spit, but now that I had accepted that he was gone, that he would not be coming back, I finally allowed the emotional walls to come shattering down and grieve for what could have been.

**PAU**


End file.
